The Eyes of a Wolf
by ObviouslyADeathNoteFan
Summary: Werewolf AU, warnings inside. Light, later wishing he had stayed out of the woods, is attacked by a wolf; on a full moon, to be noted. Living to tell the tale with only relatively minor injuries, he isn't quite able to shake the feeling that something was... strange. Unfortunately, more strange things await Light as he meets a brilliant, seemingly wild man with oddly familiar eyes.
1. Chapter 1: Attack

_**AN**_

_**Warnings: **T for violence, language, possible mental instability, mentions of death and possible character death. So... yeah. XD Werewolf AU, so violence is sort of to be expected.  
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_So, same old same old. Had an idea, simmered around in my head for a while until I finally decided to write it out. So, here is this. This is also... an experiment? I've been going over Cras, needlessly working myself up over stupid things, such as the plot is developing too quickly, or the last few chapters have been awful, you know, stuff like that. Anyway, this was both sort of a break, and a slightly different style that I wanted to try out. I can't promise that I'll update either story quickly, but if I don't have a chapter of one up, I might have one for the other up. Might. This may turn out to be a huge mistake. If so... whoops, I'll try to update as quickly as I can.  
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_Also, if you've read the thirteenth manga, or simply looked it up, you'll know L's name, so I hope that won't be a spoiler. If not, and you don't want to know... er... well... it's in this fic. As his name, which is said quite frequently. (if that made sense)  
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_NOTE: I should probably mention, L is Light's age, and maybe not quite as stable as he would normally be. Other than that, ages and mental health are normal. Obviously, this is not set during modern times. XD  
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_**I don't own Death Note.**_

0

Slinging a quiver of arrows over his shoulder, the unknown boy left the tavern with hardly a glance toward the two that had spoken, mostly rejecting the idea of him going out into the woods at night. The two watched him leave, seeming to ignore their warning words and advice.

"Kid's gonna get 'imself killed," a woman with long, brown hair and eyes muttered with another nervous look towards the door, absently washing out a tankard.

"Ah, leave 'im," a man cut in, chuckling. "He dun't look stupid, he'll handle him self alright. You see the way he held 'imself? All high-and-mighty, like he's the king's son or sumthin'."

"High-and-mighty, maybe, but am I the only one who thinks he doesn't seem ta care what's out there? He's so young, though," the woman argued, "Doesn't look more than seventeen, if that."

"Still, 'e looks strong enough. Dun't seem like no big fool, that one. He'll be fine."

"Takin' on all those wolves, just like that? I doubt that, to be honest with you. He's a fool boy, I'm telling you. Someone should go after him."

"'Nother round," someone called, and the woman shook her head worriedly, setting down a tankard. "an' I'd not worry about him," they continued, chuckling. "He obviously knew what he's getting into."

"But... does he? Ya seen the size of those things? Saw one the other night, seven feet long, I swear!" another cut in, a look of concern in his brown eyes.

"Well, you gonna get out there and bring him back? I don't see any of you lot moving. Go on then," the woman added with a nod to the door.

Silence filled the air, each unwilling to go out into the woods at night. Especially, during this time of the month, when the full moon shone over the land and strange, wolfish cries bounced off of he trees. As word had it – many a brave man, or foolish, depending on who you spoke to, went out during this time, only to never be seen again. Legends of werewolves and the like, things that lived in the trees that weren't ordinary animals, they were simply legends, weren't they? Myths, legends, stories, fiction... But did fiction have a man scared stiff on a full moon, for seemingly no other reason than a stray howl?

0

Brushing auburn hair out of his eyes for a better view of the clearing, the boy halted abruptly as a sound traveled to his keen ears, seeming to bounce off of the trees in an eerie echo. His eyes narrowed, hand hovering over his dagger.

It was close.

Too close, he realized, his narrowed eyes widening as a sniff arose from the opposite side of the clearing, the large body becoming visible in the light of the full moon. Only one, he noticed... Suddenly thankful for the good sense to hide behind a bush before resting, he silently cursed himself for his blunder. He should have been more careful, he thought, just as the sniffing stopped.

Oh, shit...

A growl, _way too damn close_ for comfort sounded from mere yards away. Forcing his breathing to a near halt, he quickly reached for the bow at his shoulder, almost growling in fear and frustration as he felt it snag on a branch. Looking over silently, he bit his lip in slight panic. He took a silent breath, an attempt to calm himself.

_'This is not good, this is very not good, Light,'_ he thought. Another growl, far more ferocious than before, coming from... he froze.

Right behind him.

0

Instincts battled each other furiously within Lawliet's brain, eyes scanning over the boy furiously, unmoving. Ferocious growls that he could not hold back issued forth from his throat while he shook in a mix of rage, fear, uncertainty, and distrust. The boy didn't seem to be threatening him, in fact, the boy seemed... more afraid than anything. If the look in his caramel eyes was anything to go on, he was simply frozen in terror and slight curiosity. But, Lawliet knew, the dagger at his side and bow across his shoulder suggested other intent.

_'Run, you fool!' _Lawliet thought, straining to not leap forward. _'No! I-! I-! RUN!'_

His growling turned to whining, though his stance grew no less threatening as time went on. _'Please, just run, I -'_

The boy leaped to the side, startling him. Whipping around, unable to control himself, the whimpering dissipated once more into a snarl. He tensed, and one thought filled his mind. _'Oh god, NO!'_

He sprung forward against his will, his powerful jaws aiming for the boy's throat.

0

During the time that had been spent merely staring at one another, Light was successfully able to secure his grip on his dagger. Predicting the large, strange black wolf's movements, he dove to the side and rolled away. Jumping to his feet once more, he saw the wolf seem to hesitate, lowering its guard for a mere second.

That was all that Light needed, and exactly what he had waited for.

While it was much stronger, heavier, and seemingly just as smart as he was, they predicted each others' moves with relative ease. It wasn't until he felt jaws sink into his right forearm that he felt that the situation was truly real. All seemingly dreamlike movements and feelings vanished in an instant, the wolf seeming to lose whatever had held it back before as it dug its teeth further into him.

He cried out, trying to kick the creature away in a futile attempt to dislodge it. Gripping the dagger with a new-found, panicked, pain-driven strength, he closed his eyes tightly and plunged it into the wolf with a swift blow to the side. A pained wail echoed through the trees, haunting in its volume and intensity. Light cursed loudly as it let go of him, pulling the dagger back, resulting in another yelp. It backed away swiftly. Light, later blaming it on bloodloss, thought that for a moment, the wolf seemed to look at him with a startlingly human intelligence... not just intelligence, but an almost scarily human look of pain, fear, and an almost... apologetic expression shining in its gray eyes.

Sure, he had expected a look of pain, the animal having just been stabbed, but this... this wasn't what he had expected. It was, well, as much as it baffled him to think, it was almost... like the look that was undoubtedly flashing through his own amber eyes. It was strange, even to his own thoughts. Pain, fear, guilt, confusion... it was all too human, as though... Light couldn't dwell on the thought any further, the reality of it all snapping him back into focus.

He collapsed against a tree, breathing heavily and clutching at his arm as a wave of dizziness washed over him, the coppery smell overwhelming his senses. Looking down for just a brief second at his injury, he winced at the sight. His attention snapped back up to where the wolf had been, only to find a blank clearing. Only later would someone notice two trails of blood leading from the place, as well as the silver amulet, lying in the midst of the place of chaos that had taken place only hours earlier.

0

By the time that Light had managed to stumble back to the nearest place he could find – the tavern – his face was an unhealthy white, his balance lost, swaying dangerously as he kept his hold on the injured arm. He grit his teeth, bursting through the door, startling the people inside at the sound. He barely spared a glance at them, his attention instead focused on the worrying amount of blood lost from the torn flesh he had clutched to his chest, ignoring the fact that his clothes had been stained with red.

Looking up sharply with a halfhearted glare at the loud newcomer, which dissipated immediately with a look of recognition, the bartender – from before, Light noted with a little relief. She had been kind to him, and seemed genuinely concerned after his quiet claim of going off into the woods, after all – dropped the tankard she had been cleaning with a gasp. She ran forward quickly as Light swayed, catching his arms to keep him steady.

"Good god, boy, I told you!" she said worriedly, helping him over to a stool. By that point, he had successfully gotten the entire tavern's attention, much to his hazy annoyance. "C'mon, boy, this way."

He followed, losing focus swiftly as she led him to a room, sat him down on an old, worn bed, and ran back out. Returning not a moment later, she pressed a cloth to the still-bleeding wound, ignoring the hiss of pain she received in response. "'s a wonder you're still 'wake," she muttered, looking up apologetically. "You alright?"

"Little tired," Light answered sarcastically, smiling weakly, "I'll be fine."

The woman – he'd really have to ask her name – sighed. "It's not like I've not treated this sort of thing before," she said. "After all, you aren't the first one, comin' in all clawed, bitten, scratched, 'r anything of the like."

Light raised an eyebrow, curious. "How often do you get people with injuries like this...?"

"Usually come around this time," she said with a shrug. "... 'round the full moon, more often, if you ask me. But, o'course," she added quickly, "'s all just stories, innit? Werewolves, 'n the like."

_Light, later blaming it on bloodloss, thought that for a moment, the wolf seemed to look at him with a startlingly human intelligence... not just intelligence, but an almost scarily human look of pain, fear, and an almost... apologetic expression shining in its gray eyes._

Light shook his head slowly, willing the dizziness to subside. "I guess so," he muttered, the image of the wolf's eyes at that moment burned into his memory, not to be easily forgotten. _'Why did it let me live...?' _he wondered, seemingly without answer. It could have easily killed him then and there, regardless of being injured.

0

Lawliet sobbed quietly, burying his pale face in his hands. _'I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...'_

He shuddered violently at the memory of the boy's arm between his canine teeth, the urge to once again wash the imaginary lingering coppery taste out of his mouth returning. Standing shakily from his spot on the floor beside the large bed, he quickly changed clothes once more, unable to get the feeling of filth and blood from his skin even after bathing, and quickly bandaging the wound he had received during the tangle with the unfortunate stranger.

Almost stepping on pieces of scattered paper, thrown to the floor in the midst his near-breakdown, he passed his desk with a glance. Guilt zipped through him, reminding him that he hadn't told the only other person in the building of what had happened during the night.

He opened the door to the hall swiftly, leaping back a step at the sight of his familiar caretaker, watching him with a concerned and understanding expression. Not meeting his eyes, Lawliet stood in the doorway, not knowing where else to go.

"Lawliet, did you..." he began gently, seeing the unusual pallor and shaking of the younger man. _'He shouldn't be out yet, anyhow...'_ Unable to speak, Lawliet simply nodded slowly. The elder paused, before laying a hand on Lawliet's shoulder in a comforting manner. "It's alright..."

"I hurt someone," Lawliet said quietly, jerking away from him suddenly without looking up. Staring at the man's shoes with tears in his eyes, he went on despite the cracking and breaking of his voice. "I- I don't know if he's alright... I just know that I-"

"Lawliet, -"

"What the hell am I, Quillish?" Lawliet whispered, feeling the unfortunately familiar sense of fear of his own being.

Quillish knelt down, placing his hand on Lawliet's shoulder once more. He lifted Lawliet's chin with his other hand, forcing him to look at him.

"What happened to you," he said firmly, staring him right in the eyes. "was not in any way, and _is not_ in any way your fault. You cannot control it."

Lawliet lowered his eyes.

"It is not your fault," Quillish said again. He smiled sadly as Lawliet wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

0

Quillish sighed quietly after the door had shut, leaving an emotionally, as well as mentally – not to mention, physically – battered Lawliet to begin writing – a habit taken up long before the... "changes", the two referred to them as, had begun.

Oh, and what stories Lawliet could create on a whim, if he so wanted. Time and time again, Quillish would stumble upon rough drafts of new wonderful works of what the caretaker thought could very easily be art. When this happened, Quillish would often find himself lost in whatever the younger man had written during the time he had often spent alone in his room. The boy often spent his time writing fantasy, or adventure, though occasionally, Quillish would find a stray, complex mystery. Why Lawliet never published any of his works, he never knew.

He shook his head slowly, his small smile fading as he remembered that the moon would be full again – added preparations and precautions for Lawliet's temporary lock-in would have to be checked thoroughly once again, as always. It never hurt to be cautious, especially with a lycanthrope to be concerned about. He would have to check the locks of the doors, he thought, how else could Lawliet have gotten out, if it wasn't simply a problem with either a window or door?

Then...

There was- well, whoever Lawliet had injured to be concerned about. He would check the papers, any recent animal attacks, describing a large, black wolf, that may or may not have had an-

Dear lord...

Lawliet wasn't wearing the amulet.

Under no circumstances would Lawliet _ever_ bring himself to remove that amulet...

It was gone.

0

Reaching absentmindedly for the amulet which hung around his neck, Lawliet froze upon realizing that it... _'It's gone...'_

He quickly threw down the quill, standing immediately. He gave a glance at the papers, watching as small dots of ink splattered across the page with slight annoyance, quickly vanishing as the thought of losing the precious amulet flooded his mind. He never, _never_ removed it, so the only way he could have lost it...

Dread filled him at the realization.

_'The woods...'_

"Quillish!" he cried, running for the door. _'I can't- I lost it! I lost the amulet!' _he thought in panic, scrambling past the bed and over a stray paper on the floor.

Just as he reached the door, it swung open, fast-paced footsteps alerting him to the presence of his caretaker just in time to avoid crashing into it. With looks that exchanged the same awful realization, he followed Quillish down the hall in quick, long strides.

"We'll find it," his caretaker said firmly.

"We have to," Lawliet replied quietly, "and- we have to find him... We have to know."

Unspoken words once again traveled between the two, barely a glance shared as they walked out into the cold streets.

0

Greedy, drunken eyes fell onto something shimmering in the mid-day sunlight, catching his sluggish attention.

"Oi, wha'z 'iss now?" he slurred, bending over lazily to pick up the shiny object lying in the leaves.

"I don't know," another man replied honestly, rolling his eyes at the shape that his friend was in. "Let's go home, you drunkard. Whatever it is," he added, watching the man with a small amount of interest as he examined the shiny thing, "it's probably not important."

"'s a necklaceee!" the other exclaimed excitedly. "Pretty one, too, at that."

Curious, the other moved closer to the man, watching the silver-ish metal catch the light. A simple, round locket, the latch firmly locked in place. "Probably belongs to someone. Let's take it to th-"

"No way!" the man opposite yelled, "I found it, 'm keepin' it!"

Rolling his eyes, promising himself he'd look around for anyone looking for a necklace like this after the blasted drunkard was finally asleep, he glanced down at the place the other had found it. It appeared to have merely been dropped... Curious, he thought. As a smell reached the man's nose, he wrinkled it in disgust. "Yeesh, what- holy-!" he cried, catching sight of a trail of blood. "What on earth happened here...?"

"I'unno, but I'm keepin' this!" the drunken man said happily, stuffing it in his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you are," the other muttered, leaning down to inspect the blood-spattered leaves, as well as a nearby tree. Picking up a stray leaf, he flipped it from side to side between his fingers, thinking. _'I really do hope that whoever, or whatever was hurt is alright... This is a lot of blood...'_

"C'mon, let's go," his friend said suddenly. Standing, the man turned around with a frown. "Aww, don't gimme that look. 'm sure 's fine. After all," he slurred, "no bodies around, 're there?"

"That's true, and we've been walking for near an hour now. I suppose..." he trailed off, watching a shadow glide sneakily across the clearing, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Perhaps you're right. We should go. I'll report this, when we get there..."

A happy hum was his response, and before long, the two walked off.

0

Light yawned, having been unable to sleep. His mind had been going _far_ too quickly to even think about going to sleep; going over the events of the night in his head, shivering occasionally, partly from the memories etched into his mind, and partly because the tavern was _damn cold_ that night. Honestly, he hadn't been sure if it was simply his thoughts, or if it truly was simply cold. When he tried closing his eyes, trying to force his mind to go blank, he saw the wolf's eyes, once again staring at him just after he had struck it. They were filled with feelings and emotions that he knew all too well, and this frightened him.

What was that...?

Was it all in his head...?

Was he simply going mad...?

Or had it all been real? Had he been lucid, completely in the right mind? Did the wolf's eyes truly show what he had seen, or was his frazzled mind picturing things that hadn't truly existed? Another thing that bothered him; the wolf let him live. It had all the chances in the world, could have killed him right there and then, but it hesitated. It stopped, and Light couldn't help but wonder why. It had been seconds away from ripping his throat out, wounded or not, merely killing him and running off, or perhaps staying and enjoying the victory of its kill, but it didn't...

He was thinking too much into this, he decided, sitting up with a small grimace, once again reminded of his injury. It was merely... it was merely...

_'Merely what, Light?'_

Merely a merciful wolf, he supposed. Wolves weren't necessarily cold-blooded killers, and he had just been lucky enough to have run into that one, instead of, say, an alpha for instance. Then, he thought with a quiet scoff, he'd have been done for. If it had been an alpha, instead of the one he had bumped into, there surely would have been other wolves around. Then, he'd _really _have been done for.

He thought of the woman's - Clara's - words to him last night.

"_'s all just stories, innit? Werewolves, 'n the like."_

He vaguely wondered about it, how she seemed a little rushed to add that last little bit.

"_Werewolves, 'n the like..."_

_'You shouldn't think of such things,'_ he thought tiredly. _'Werewolves don't exist, like Clara said. You're thinking too much about this.'_

And he tried to believe it; he truly did, but the image of its eyes returned to him once more. Though he knew that wolves were incredibly intelligent creatures, this one seemed... well, more so than he had thought. He hadn't often tangled with wolves, learning to avoid them as much as possible over the years. Again... What bothered him most was that it hesitated... it was foolish, he knew, but he couldn't shake the feeling that, if it could have, it wouldn't have attacked him; as though it were forced to do it by some unknown entity.

Instinct, perhaps? Possibly... However, Light thought it doubtful.

And anyway, he reasoned, this wolf looked nothing like any mythological creature that he knew of. Simply a large, black wolf, with rather oddly colored eyes. That was all. Werewolves were enormous, half-man half-beasts that roamed the land and tore apart everything they could. However, who said it had to be exactly as the legends had it? All this thinking of werewolves, he thought, shaking his head with a slightly disbelieving smile. He must be going mad, if he's honestly considering that it may have been a werewolf. Still... he couldn't seem to shake the possibility, no matter how hard he tried to reason with himself.

Sighing tiredly, he stood slowly. Glancing down at the injury, he groaned in annoyance, seeing little blotches of red staining the white cloth. He supposed, sometime during the night, it had reopened briefly. Peeling back the cloth, he inspected the wound carefully. No sign of infection, he noted with some relief, and it appeared to be healing quite well. If it had reopened, it had closed once more. He blinked. It _was_ healing very quickly. Looking up once more, he smiled at the knowledge that his clothes had been washed, free of blood once more and lying, folded, on the dresser next to the bed.

_'Clara must have come in at some point last night,'_ he thought with a quiet sigh. He glanced around the room, making sure that the door had been shut as he reached for the clothes.

Stripping off the nightclothes, replacing them with his usual outfit of simple, common dress, he pondered absently over what people seemed to be talking about; voices were barely heard through the walls, the other side of the wall being the bar-area. He caught bits and pieces, eventually emerging from his room, the volume increasing and voices becoming clearer.

"Ah, finally 'wake, are we, sleepin' beauty?" Clara asked, smiling as he approached her.

"Yep," he mumbled, "What's everyone talking about?"

She shrugged. "Couple of guys came in earlier, talkin' about some sort of necklace they found in the woods. One was obviously drunk, while t' other didn't seem to particularly care much about it."

"... Hmm."

0

Gray eyes scanned frantically around the trees, bushes, leaves, _anywhere_ that the amulet could have fallen. As time went on, Lawliet began to lose hope in ever finding the thing; only making the situation worse, nightfall was coming.

"Lawliet," Quillish began, saddened eyes falling on the poor boy, almost desperately pawing through a bush. Lawliet paused, turning with a hopeful expression. It fell, however, when he realized what the next words would be. "It's almost dark, we need to leave. I promise you, we _will_ find that amulet, but for now, we have to go."

Lawliet nodded slowly, standing. He seemed more slouched over than usual, with a sadder, grimmer sort of aura, but he followed Quillish nonetheless.

The way back to the house – Lawliet still thought it sounded snobby and/or rude to call it a mansion, though in truth, there were not many other ways to describe it – was mostly silent. Before long, the two had slid into the basement, locking the doors – which had been thoroughly checked, only to find nothing wrong with them – of the enormous, well, what would most accurately be described as a cage, Lawliet gazing emptily at the bars. He glanced up, unresponsive to the reassuring smile that his caretaker gave.

"It'll be alright," Quillish said softly.

"Oh, will it really," Lawliet replied flatly. "Then please, tell me, what was wrong with the doors that you could see?"

Quillish paused, before sighing. "Nothing."

"Then the chances of me escaping again are quite high, aren't they, if you don't know what was wrong? If there wasn't anything wrong with them before, then how did I escape?"

"I suppose... but-"

"Quillish, I want you to promise me something," Lawliet interrupted, a touch of urgency in his tone and eyes. Surprised, Quillish answered.

"What is it?"

"If I do escape again, I... I don't want to hurt anyone else." Quillish felt a sharp sting of sadness run through him at the unspoken, yet strongly implied words.

"_I don't want to hurt anyone else. If I escape, I want you to stop me. Any way you must."_

He swallowed dryly, nodding. "You won't," he said quietly. He knew that merely injuring the man last night had been horrible for them both, though, during the day, he had checked the newspaper, but seen no reports of animal attacks. Not one, which was odd... or, he thought grimly, it meant that the victim had died before reaching anyone to report it to.

"It'll start soon," Lawliet muttered, walking to the far wall watching the sun set through a high, barred window. "Remember what you promised, Quillish."

"I will."

With that, the caretaker left, with one last, sad look in Lawliet's direction.

0

The sun had nearly completely set by the time Lawliet felt himself begin to change. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable agony to come.

It started with his fingernails.

They became darker, more pointed, and cruelly shaped. He winced, screwing his eyes closed more tightly. He felt his body change, bones shifting in ways they were _not_ originally meant to shift in, black fur sprouting over his back. Biting his lip to avoid crying out became impossible after a few moments.

Minutes later, where once stood a normal, if not slightly wild boy, was a wolf; snarling furiously in rage and fear.

He knew the unfortunately familiar sense of not being in control of his own body, trapped in his own mind. He heard himself snarl, running around the room in outrage at being closed in- in a _box_. A box that he _desperately_ needed out of, to be free, to run and jump and hunt and- oh god, just _get him out of there_! Emotions that were not his own began surfacing – panic, rage, fear, anxiety, claustrophobia, as well as the inescapable feeling of being trapped. He panted heavily, trying to get the point across _to himself_ that he had enough room, no one had the intent to hurt him, and-

It was useless, he was panicking.

He wouldn't listen to _himself_.

He couldn't, really. It was... he was... he was an animal. A frightened, hungry animal, that had part of a human's brain and mental processing. With that part locked away from him, he felt as though there were two of him; one, Lawliet, and the other, the wolf. He supposed, there were. At this point, the wolf was in control of him.

Drawn out of his thoughts by a slow creaking, Lawliet- the wolf turned suspiciously. Now, both were terrified.

The large, heavy, near unbreakable door had opened.

0

**_AN_**

_... So... How was that? :D_


	2. Chapter 2: Wary

_**AN**_

_Thank you to** Epipelagic** and** ForestofInk** for the lovely reviews! Holy crap, I'm so sorry this has taken so long. To anyone who wants to know, or cares, I will update Cras sometime soon. Eh... Anyway. This chapter, to me, is kinda... meh. Hope it's at least alright, though! If anyone notices any grammar mistakes or spelling errors, please let me know. It's like 1:30 AM, and I'm finally done with this chapter. (I'm terrible, I know! I'm sorry! Anyway, thanks for reading! xD) Ahhh, this AN is longer than I wanted it to be... :P  
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_**Epipelagic** – Thanks! I guess you'll just have to wait and see. :D_

_**ForestofInk** – Yeah... I wasn't sure about the summary either, to be honest. So, assuming it's loaded by the time anyone's seen this chapter, how is the new (... improved?) version? Personally, I think I like this one better. I was actually kind of stuck on what to write it as; I'm horrible at writing summaries, as you've no doubt noticed. XD Anyway, I've been trying to put much more detail into the characters' thoughts, and in a different way than I have in the other stories I've written, and I guess I've done an alright job! Thanks! :)  
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_So, something I've been wondering about; how is the style? That was mostly what I wanted to try, and I had been thinking about werewolves and Death Note, so this just sort of happened. Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you all had a happy Halloween! _

_Quick Note: All misspellings in speech are completely intentional. Not really sure if that needed to be said, but, whatever. Enjoy, fellow geeks!  
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_**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.**_

0

A howl startled Light out of a half-conscious daze, snapping awake instantly. What the hell was that? Lying, frozen, barely breathing, he listened. It had sounded close – too close.

A snarl sounded, loud in the otherwise silence of the night. Slowly, Light rose from the bed and tip-toed out of the tavern. Clara had, upon hearing that he had nowhere else to go, insisted on him staying - at least, until his arm had properly healed. He had decided, earlier on in the day, that there wasn't any harm in doing so; later, he would come to realize just how much that decision would impact him. For the better or worse, he honestly had trouble deciding, as much as he hated to admit it.

Shaking his head lightly, he vaguely wondered how others hadn't woken at the sound.

Upon reaching the door, he hesitated. Should he _really_ go out there...? Had he even really heard anything, or was it simply his imagination, seeming much clearer in the state that his mind had been in? Half awake, slipping in and out of consciousness, it was highly probable.

But, he knew, it'd bug him forever. If he just sucked it up and went, he'd see that there was nothing there.

Just a quick trip outside to get some fresh air.

He pulled the door open slowly, making almost no sound as he stepped out. The air was cool against his skin, a gentle breeze blowing past in the chilly night air. Something – he hadn't the faintest idea of what – pulled him out, further away from the tavern and closer to the woods. Mere yards away from the treeline, a sound stopped him in his tracks.

He froze.

He knew that sound far better than he would have liked.

A wary snarl, though it was more of a growl; just past the treeline, mere yards away, just out of sight in the darkness of the woods. Seemingly satisfied with Light's response, it stopped. But, of course, by no means did that mean it had gone.

Dark, familiar gray eyes caught the moonlight, shining eerily in the shadows.

… Shit.

0

Lawliet recognized the boy instantly; the hair, the eyes, the bandages on the boy's left arm, and the scent all made it clear to him that it was the same. He fought himself, trying to convince the wolf that this boy was unarmed, weak, and _not_ going to hurt him. Just. Go. Back.

Standing at the very edge of the woods, probably just visible from the boy's point of view, they watched.

_'Calm down,' _he told himself, only serving to frighten... _it_, more. Instincts battled voices in the wolf's head, tearing at him.

Slightly surprised by the sudden awareness of his surroundings, he noticed, all at once, that everything seemed much louder, colder, tenser than it had before. The cold wind blew gently through the baring trees, through his fur, sending an almost unnoticeable chill down the other boy's spine. The wolf's ear twitched as he lowered his head slightly, gazing up at the teen with an almost unblinking stare. The faint sounds of nighttime animals seemed to echo, bouncing around the trees. Thankfully, these animals were probably mostly a long way off; they wouldn't give the boy or wolf any trouble.

The standstill at which the wolf and the boy had come to suddenly seemed much more real than it had previously. The voice in his head told him to leave, and that fact alone seemed terrifying to him. His instincts were already contradicting each other, but this was... this was... He simply didn't know what to do.

Ever since the voice in his head had started talking to him, in that strange, unknown, yet somewhat soothing tone, and the blackouts had begun, the wolf had been terrified and uncertain of nearly every move that was not fully controlled by _himself_. Anything even slightly influenced by the voice was to be wary and watchful of. The voice didn't seem threatening, or at least, the tone of it didn't. He felt things that he didn't feel himself; and that didn't make any kind of sense. It was like... someone else had taken home inside of him.

He knew that much time passed during his blackouts, as he could only ever recall it being the full moon when he did, once again, emerge. Now, the thought in his mind; should he listen to the voice? Go back, run to the place that he had woken in? Ignore it? Either way; he knew it would probably be best for him to simply leave, though he couldn't bring himself to without first seeing what on earth the voice seemed to want him to avoid, if he understood the general tone of it...

Noting the wolf's hesitation, Lawliet thought soothing, calming words to himself, telling him- it- the wolf to simply leave; don't hurt the boy. The wolf, while not ignoring the voice, cautiously stepped out of the trees.

Lawliet tried to convince it to turn around, to no avail. But, to his slight relief, it hadn't shown any signs of wanting to attack. Reluctantly, he allowed the wolf to move forward, keeping a close eye on the boy's almost non-existent movements.

0

Light stiffened, watching the wolf warily out of the corner of his eye. Any sudden movements, he knew, or possibly any at all, could very well result in his death. So he waited, his quick, shallow breaths visible in the cold night air.

Finally, after what felt to him like hours, the wolf stopped. It had slowly advanced to a near dozen feet away, sniffing the air in an almost curious way. He wondered if wolves could sense fear in other animals, or maybe humans. If so, it could tell that Light was terrified. The sniffing stopped as thick, dark clouds passed over the moon, the scene darkening dramatically.

… Not good.

Other than a mere outline, nothing could be seen of the wolf. It could have easily to be mistaken for a trick of the eyes.

_'Please, just leave me alone...' _he thought miserably, his breathing quickening as he heard a snarl. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, _shit_. Oh god, what had he done wrong? Did he somehow provoke it? Had he done something that it might have considered a threat? Did he-

He felt something warm brush up against his leg, his posture instantly growing more rigid. Hot breath washed over his ankles. He closed his eyes, praying to any and everything he could think of that this thing would just- would just leave.

He didn't want to die; he really, really didn't. He was only seventeen, and had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, it seemed, the wolf had returned to finish what had started. The breathing never ceased, never moved, and he heard sniffing once again.

0

Well, Lawliet thought, at least it hadn't attacked the boy again yet... if it had, however... there would be another wolf locked in a cage the following night. The wolf drew in a long, deep sniff. Lawliet knew the fear that the boy had felt since it first had made itself known. He had prayed that the boy would do the smart thing; stay inside. He was going through an enormous amount of effort to persuade the wolf, tell it that he wasn't a threat, and that it was okay. Everything was okay, just leave, he wasn't a threat.

It was odd, "talking" to something that didn't understand him, yet knew vaguely what he was thinking.

The wolf obeyed, partly, which for Lawliet meant everything. If it listened to him now... would it listen to him in the future?

If he kept trying, sort of... _talking_ to it, maybe...

The moon reappeared, bathing the scene in its eerie glow once more. The boy breathed out a small, almost unnoticeable sigh of relief at being able to see the the wolf once more. The wolf lifted its large head, gazing up at him suspiciously.

_'It's alright. He won't hurt you. Home. Back,'_ Lawliet thought soothingly, glad for the lack of fright from the wolf at the sudden, soft command. He had felt the sense of panic slowly drain from the wolf as time had gone on, and felt very relieved that it was finally growing more comfortable with him. After all, the changes were... relatively new. Had he been in human form, he would have shuddered at the memory. Instead, sensing his discomfort, the wolf growled. _'Right,'_ he thought to himself, _'He_ _feels what I do.' _

The wolf blinked at the boy, who blinked right back at it, caramel eyes closing for a mere second. Lawliet managed to persuade the wolf, telling it to back up. After a few moments, it did, slowly, maintaining eye contact with the slightly confused teen.

Once he had gotten back into the woods, quite far away from the slowly relaxing boy, the wolf turned, sprinting off through the trees. Lawliet would have breathed a sigh of relief, had he been able to.

_'Good boy,' _he thought, hearing a quiet whine in response as he – it – darted through the trees.

0

What the hell had just happened?

It... it just... left? After all of that? Light was... confused, to say the least. He sprinted back inside, shutting the door firmly, managing to close it with only a soft _thud_. It had come and gone, leaving Light a terrified, trembling mess. He had practically felt Death's presence in the air, yet he was fine. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

_'Calm down, Light, it's alright,'_ he thought, leaning his side against the door. After a moment, his breathing finally steadied.

It was, Light _knew_, the same wolf as he had met just the previous night. He _knew_. No other wolf had the... the same, dark, near-human gaze as it did. Only... this time, it didn't attack him... This only served to confuse him more.

The previous night, it paused. Now, it doesn't attack at all? It just... it just walked up, sniffed, then went away. What...? It didn't seem to be threatening; though, after all, neither was he. Without any kind of weapon, defenseless, maybe... Maybe it figured – correctly – that Light was basically harmless at the moment. Light shuddered at the thought that it could have, again, killed him. Easily, at that.

It held back each time; why? It had injured him, had the chance to take him out _multiple _times, but it didn't. It had Light completely frozen in terror, but it just sniffed at him before walking off... And another thing to consider: the injury that Light had given it... from what he could see of it, it had almost completely healed. What was up with that thing? And why did it come to Light?

After a moment, he let himself relax slightly against the door, still breathing quick, shallow pants as he calmed himself.

It was just... coincidence, that was all. What else could it have been? After all... it was only a wolf; nothing more.

… Right?

0

The sunlight pouring in through the barred window was what had roused Lawliet, giving out a half-yawn half-groan as he sat up and stretched.

He hadn't hurt anyone- he might be able to breathe a little more easily, for the time being. But... who had opened the door? It sure as hell didn't just drift open; that much was clear. Quillish had installed the best precautions he could get to prevent that, and more, from happening.

He doubted that there were many things that could get the door open using simple brute force. And anyway, it had opened outward, so it _couldn't_ have been force. He didn't open it, there had been no one behind the metal bars, and... it _appeared_ to have simply drifted open... But it couldn't have. This much was certain.

Shaking his head slowly, Lawliet grabbed a pair of spare clothes that had been left the previous night. He quickly threw them on, thankful that Quillish hadn't come down yet. It would probably be a bit before he came down, however. He really needed to start keeping a book down there or something...

Perhaps something to write on? And, of course, with? He'd have to remember that, he decided suddenly, curling up against the back wall, under the barred window. His tired, gray eyes scanned the room for the umpteenth time, boredom quickly setting in.

…

What was taking him so long?

Lawliet sighed, tracing a crack in the floor next to him with the tip of his finger absentmindedly. He thought back to the moment that he- the wolf had stopped, hesitating just beyond the treeline. It seemed... confused. And, as Lawliet felt what it did, he knew that it hadn't been sure of its actions.

A thought occurred to Lawliet; had the wolf been its own being, before his changes had begun? The thought made him shudder. Had he simply taken control of it, as he thought it had done to him? He felt uneasy, wrapping an arm around himself. He lazily rested his chin on his knees, staring vacantly at the crack in the floor.

If that was true...

It was possible that the wolf just sort of... came into reality, he thought, as the changes started. Or, maybe, his form simply changed, morphing into another being... No, that couldn't be it; the thoughts and emotions that Lawliet sensed were not his own; as well as the fact that, if that had been true, would he not have had control?

But, if _that_ wasn't true, then some wolf out there had somehow been merged with his own mind; equally trapped, as he was for three nights out of the month. But, in that case, it was worse for the wolf than himself, being trapped for the rest of the time that Lawliet was in control. In that case...

Before he could think any further, a pair of soft footsteps interrupted the silence. Looking up hopefully, Lawliet watched as the door across the room opened.

"Finally," he muttered softly, going unheard to the man walking to the door. He stood, scratching at the back of his neck. He couldn't bring himself to meet his caretaker's gaze, instead, fixing his eyes on a spot on the floor.

His interest grew, however, when he heard the _click_ that signaled that the door had been unlocked. Eyes wide, his head snapped back up to look at the door.

How could it have been locked...? That was another thing that he hadn't thought of. This was extremely out of character for him; he was known for his sharp observations and usually emotionless appearance. This was apparently stripped from him during the full moon, given its effects on him.

As he stepped past the older man, giving a nod of thanks, he paused upon hearing a voice.

"... There was an offer for a silver amulet in a shop today," Quillish said, sighing, "but... I'm afraid it was gone before I could get to it."

"What do you mean...?"

"It was bought. I lost it... I'm sorry, Lawliet."

"We will keep looking. Also, Quillish..." he trailed off, looking to the door. He knelt down in front of it, checking for any sign of tampering.

"What is it?" Quillish asked, watching the younger curiously.

Lawliet paused, glancing up before returning to the door. There wasn't anything wrong with it... "I got out," he said quietly. "Again."

0

"Tired?"

Light paused, blinking. It seemed the bags under his eyes hadn't gone unnoticed, after all... He sighed. "You could say that," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "I had trouble sleeping."

It wasn't a complete lie, he reasoned, after all- he hadn't gotten much sleep after the encounter with the wolf.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Clara chuckled, handing him a plate of eggs. He blinked again, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "How long were you awake for? You seem, well, pretty out of it."

"Thanks," Light mumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. He took the plate gratefully. "So... this may sound a bit odd, but have you seen any wolves around lately?"

Clara paused, watching him curiously.

"You're kidding, right?"

"... No, why?"

"Well, there's the one that tore you up, and one that's been stalking this place for a few months now. Always 'round the full moon..."

"Really? What does it look like?"

"Big damn thing. It's... somewhere around seven feet, I'd say, black, with... gray eyes. I swear, I've seen them just... just out of the corner of my eye, watching me. It's pretty damn creepy. But," she added quickly, "just my imagination, innit?"

Light paused, pushing the eggs around the plate for a second. So, she had seen the same thing...

"Maybe..." he muttered, before looking up with a smile. "Just wondering. I've – obviously – seen a few around here before," he chuckled lightly.

"Speaking of which, how's your arm? Seems to be doing alright."

… Oddly alright. What had, the previous night, been large teeth marks, had now turned to mere puncture wounds. It was strange. It had nearly healed overnight.

"... It's doing fine."

0

"John! The hell've you done!? Thought I'd told you to _wait_, you bloody idiot, I-"

"Aw, shut up," John snapped, "I just put the stupid thing up and someone took it. An' anyway, got paid enough for it. It's no-"

"That obviously _belonged_ to someone, you idiot! It wasn't yours to sell in the first place!"

"Well, they should take better care of their things," John replied with a shrug, the uncaring gesture only serving to annoy his friend further.

"Didn't you see the _blood _around the area? I don't think the thing was lost easily, Mark..."

Mark scoffed, raising a cup of coffee and gesturing towards his fuming friend."I'm tellin' ya, it's fine. Whatever happened, I doubt anyone was really hurt, anyhow."

"Pfft. You were _drunk at the time_. Nothing seemed very serious, did it? By just... how much there was, I'd really disagree... After all, you didn't exactly stop to investigate, did you? You were too fascinated by the damned necklace to notice anything but the way the light reflected off it. Now, who'd you sell it to?"

"I didn't know 'iz name," Mark muttered, lowering his gaze. Hesitating, he looked back at his friend. "He was a pretty odd bloke, though. Looked as though he'd never seen the sun once in his life."

"Oh?"

"An' his eyes were a pretty odd color... I could've sworn they were red, for a moment there..."

"You're probably seeing things, Mark. After all, how many drinks'd you had by that point?"

He paused. "Eh..."

"See? Anyway, not the point I'm trying to make. Did he say anything?"

"No, not really. Looked at it, said "that one," paid, took it, and left. That was all," Mark said curiously. "Not 'nything really abnormal for a jewelry shop, is it? Anyway, you're not really going to hunt this thing down, are you?"

John sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I suppose not, but..."

"Why's this bothering you so much, anyhow?"

"I don't know, but you shouldn't have sold it. After all, it was obviously cared for. From what the whole scene looked like, whoever had lost it fought pretty damn hard for it. Poor sap... Damn it, Mark," John muttered, sighing.

"Look, sorry, alright!? After all, I was half conscious at the time! Have a heart would ya?"

"Yeah... It's alright, but I wished you'd have asked me. I'd have done something to give it back, if I could've..."

"Well, too late now."

"Suppose so..."

0

"Do you really believe that I would lie to you about this? I'm telling you, it just-" Lawliet groaned in exasperation, exhaustion, and slight disbelief that his caretaker would accuse him of lying. He supposed he hadn't been completely honest at times in the past, but not for anything like _this_; and of course, for nothing worth mentioning... Usually.

"No! Lawliet, I'm not saying that, but I... I honestly doubt that the door simply... drifted open, as you say."

"I can't explain it either," the younger said slowly, drawing his knees up to his chest on the comfortable sofa. Resting his arms on his knees, he absently nibbled at the tip of his thumb thoughtfully. "but... I can say that I didn't hurt anyone. Last night was one of the the only ones so far that I can fully remember. However..."

"However what, Lawliet?" the elder asked softly, setting a cup of tea down near the troubled teen.

"The boy- the one I injured the night before last-" he winced at the memory, feeling the urge to once again wash his mouth out to rid himself of the horrid feeling that seemed to haunt him. Instead, he simply took a small sip from the cup he'd just been given. The almost unbearably sweet taste overpowered the nasty feeling as Lawliet continued. "I- the wol- _it_ found him again."

"Oh?"

"Yes..." Lawliet took another sip from the mug, savoring the sweet flavor.. "He... he smelled familiar, somehow. Like I've met him before. He wasn't threatening, but... maybe it was just the previous night that I knew him from. It would certainly explain it."

"It would..."

"Did you find any wild animal attack reports?"

"None, so far."

"And the amulet?"

"A description of the person who bought it, given by a friend of the man who had sold it."

_'This is like some wild goose chase,'_ Lawliet thought irritably. "What was it?"

"Pale, dark eyes, and baggy clothes. He mentioned that the man who had sold it had claimed that their eyes turned red for a moment. Dark, wild hair, they said..."

A tense, silent moment passed, both reaching the same thought; there was only one man that could have known of Lawliet's... situation, and bought the amulet that quickly.

"Beyond," Lawliet murmured, eyes wider than usual.

"It would seem so," Quillish said quietly.

"It's not possible. Beyond is _dead_, Quillish. He's _dead_. It must just be some sort of coincidence."

"Beyond is- was _very_ clever. Do you think that-"

"No, I don't," the dark-eyed teen blurted, giving the caretaker a small glare. "Clever as he may have been, Beyond could not cheat death."

"Stranger things have happened, Lawliet. This whole situation, as an example. But, I agree."

"Hmm," Lawliet hummed softly, narrowing his eyes as he brought the cup to his lips again.

0

The small silver object glistened in the fading orange glow of the setting sun, sending rays of light onto the rock on which the man sat - crouched, would be a better way of putting it. The pendant swayed gently, the reflected light moving side to side as a gentle breeze brushed past. It could have been almost peaceful, had the surrounding air not been so unsettling, able to make even the strongest or bravest of those around him pause or hesitate.

No, this calm, cold air had a sense of something else; something bitter, better to be left alone or, quite simply, frightened of. At the very least, wary of.

Stars began to appear between dark, ominous clouds that warned of storms to come. Red eyes scanned over the trees once more, an unnerving glint sparking up as a soft chuckle joined the sounds of awakening nocturnal animals.

"Lawliet, oh, you should be locked up by now." A humorless, warning grin settled across pale, thin lips. "So afraid of what you are, aren't you? So, so afraid. Locking yourself up like this isn't going to help anything, and you'll soon see that, won't you?"

A small _clink_ of the pendant falling onto the large rock followed the gleeful red-eyed male's mocking words. Quiet, practiced unnatural chuckles arose, eerily loud in the cold air; an audible expression of excitement for the oncoming events, a near-sadistic eagerness to watch the scenes unfold.

Almost as if in response, a distant howl pierced the air.


End file.
